Crossdresser
by Sylvia Snape
Summary: Before the Quidditch Cup, wizards had to be properly dressed to not make Muggles suspicious. Almost all of them went to get new clothes, including the most notable: Archie. So what's a poor clerk to when he's alone with the store with him?


**Spoilers:** GoF

**Disclaimer:** The characters and the Harry Potter enterprise belongs to JK Rowling and all of her affiliates. No trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes:** I know I haven't been around for quite a while, but I didn't have access to the internet. Now I want to post more of my fics before the next book comes out. This is just a cute little thing about Archie's choice of clothing and how he acquired it.

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Arnold worked in a small, respectable clothing store. It wasn't much of a job but he took it seriously and was personally offended by the amount of cross-dressers that had been coming in lately. He could understand a couple once in a while but fifty or so men coming in during one week was just ridiculous. Was there some sort of support group nearby?

It was the middle of the morning and Arnold had time to kill because no one usually came in at this time. He was alone in the store because the manager knew this very well. So, Arnold spent the time reading the book he needed to know for the upcoming school year. It was a boring read but there was nothing else to do.

Needless to say, Arnold was surprised when he heard the tinkling bell that announced somebody coming in to the shop. He quickly brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and put down the book, carefully marking the page. "Hello. How may I help you?" He had started cheerfully, but trailed off as he noticed that this man was wearing a bright pink cloak.

"I'm just browsing," said the old man. He went off to the women's section. Arnold could see it was another cross-dresser, but this man was obviously eccentric as well. He couldn't help but think that this couldn't be a good combination.

Against his better judgment, Arnold watched warily as the man browsed. The man vaguely looked at the skirts and took a bit of interest in the dresses, but when he noticed the nightgowns he was next to them in a flash. He fingered the material and found the longest nightgowns in the place. He was now deciding between a pattern of flowers and leaves, having a long time ago forgotten about the polka dotted dresses.

Arnold was clearly disgusted as his mouth twisted into a scowl, and his long fingers started twitching. His usually murky eyes flashed with a dark anger.

But this was not the end of the show. The man found what was perhaps the worst piece of clothing in the store. No one as much as took a second look at it and it was hidden at the very back of the racks, but the man managed to find it.

The gown itself was an off-white that Arnold was at a loss to describe. There was a close knit pattern of bright yellow daisies at the hems. Purple and pink flowers of different sizes and shapes scattered the whole garment. Along both of the sleeves, dark blue tulips stood out against a pattern of tiny leaves. Perhaps worst of all was right of the stomach: a large (large enough to cover the whole stomach) red rose showed itself with a large prickly stem leading all the way down the gown.

The old man could have squealed in excitement as he grabbed the nightgown and tottered over to Arnold.

"Is that all?" Arnold asked in a somewhat strangled voice.

"Yes," the man answered with an accent and laid _the thing_ down on the counter. Arnold quickly bagged it and said the price, which had been considerably lowered so that it may be sold.

The old man took out a bag of coins and gold. Arnold recognized the pound, the dollar and the franc but the rest were foreign to him. After fumbling with the money for a little bit, the man paid the exact price for the dress.

As the man left, Arnold's manager came in, smiling brightly to the passing man, despite his strange clothes. Arnold sagged behind the counter.

The aging manger, who had a sharp eye as well as tongue, noticed and rushed over to his favorite employee. He shook him gently to get him out of his unusual stupor. "What happened?" he asked gently, but urgently at the same time.

Arnold answered hoarsely, "_The thing_ was sold." He then ran quickly to the restroom.

The manager looked in amazement at his usually soft-spoken clerk. He then remembered the un-sellable nightgown and connected it immediately to the smiling old man in the pink cloak who had just left the shop. Even this sharp-minded (yes, he is very sharp) cheerful man could not deal with news such as thins. He twitched a little before collapsing on the floor, unconscious.

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**Author's Notes:** How did you like it? Could you read my other stories as well? It would be appreciated. I'll take any reviews I can get. My policy on reviewing: it's better to get a flame than nothing at all. You still don't want to? If you still don't want to review, then I encourage you to write a story. Then you'll understand how much reviews mean to writers and maybe you'll start reviewing other people's stories. Review!


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